


When You Call I'll Forgive and Not Fight

by tinycamembert



Category: Cafe Cardamari Tales
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Mentions of Sex, because it makes no sense, but not actually sex, dont pay too close attention to which universe this takes place in, therefore the T rating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycamembert/pseuds/tinycamembert
Summary: Bella goes over to Marian's house and stays.





	When You Call I'll Forgive and Not Fight

**Author's Note:**

> thank you Melodrama by Lorde for all the maribella fic titles i'll ever need in my whole life

Light streams through the blinds of your window as you wake up, groggy and vaguely aware of a weight on your chest. You're sweating a bit, so you prop yourself up and drag your arm over your body to pull your duvet away from your body, and your arm bumps into a sleeping figure instead. 

You blearily open your eyes, looking over to your right, and Marian is fast asleep next to you, her arm slung over your chest as she dozes. You blink a few times, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, just in case what you just saw was a figment of your imagination. But no, she's still there next to you, her hair tangled and messy around her cheeks as her small form rises and falls gently. 

Very slowly, you lay all the way back down as to not wake her. 

The few times that you've gone to see Marian, you don't make it much of a habit to stay long afterwards. There's too much of a chance that the two of you will break into an argument, or that you'll lose your temper and say something stupid, or that you might actually start talking and all of the feelings that you've so furiously pushed down, deep deep into the back of your mind will all come spilling out before you can stop yourself.

You don't remember falling asleep last night, but it's the first time since, well, since you and Marian dated, that the two of you had slept together and you had spent the night. Not like you stayed on purpose, but you had come over late at night anyways when you knew everyone else would be asleep, so in hindsight it's not too surprising. 

Now, however, you're not sure what to do. Marian isn't a very deep sleeper, so you're surprised you didn't wake her up in the first place when you accidentally bumped her. Her arm is still wrapped tightly around your chest, bare skin to bare skin, and her breath tickles your shoulder as she lies on her stomach. The contact makes your heart hurt.

There's no real reason why you couldn't just lift up her arm and sneak out, but you can't bring yourself to do it. You feel trapped under her arm and the suffocating material of her duvet, no matter how easy in theory it would be just to get up and leave. The feeling of entrapment is probably a bit metaphorical, too, but you're too groggy to really think about deep shit like that right now. All you really know is that you're stuck under the sleeping form of your ex-girlfriend, and waking her up to leave would make things a lot more awkward than if you had just sucked it up and left last night when you should have. 

Painfully slowly, you begin to lift Marian's arm, moving out from underneath her with as much stealth as you can manage. You're just about to lower her arm back onto the mattress, when she sighs, and opens her eyes and stares right at you.

"What are you doing?" She asks, her voice clear, sounding very much like a person who definitely did not just wake up in this instant. 

Fuck!!!

You avoid eye contact for the time being, not sure how to answer her question. "Uh, how long were you awake?" 

The duvet is completely off of your body now, so you're ass-naked, half-on and half-off of her mattress and feeling like an idiot.

"You elbowed me in the face," Marian grumbles. She pushes her hair out of her eyes and props herself up on her arm. 

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, because it's true. "I uh. Didn't realize you were right next to me. I forgot."

Marian shrugs, and pulls the covers up so that only her head is visible underneath the mass of blankets. "I forgot too, up until then." A moments pause, and then she tries again with her original question. "So... what are you doing?"

"Um," you say. "I was leaving?"

Marian holds her gaze for a few moments, but you can't read her expression. Was that the wrong thing to say? 

"Okay," she says. Her voice is quiet. You watch as she cocoons back into the safety of her duvet and lies back down. Only the top of her head is visible.

You stand up, but instead of getting dressed you walk to the bathroom instead. Buying yourself some time to think, you splash some water on your face and stand there for a few moments, vaguely focusing on your reflection in the mirror. 

I look tired, you think. You lean forwards, arms propped up on the bathroom sink, and observe yourself for a moment, with the dark bags under your eyes and hollow expression and the haphazard mess of your braids because you slept on the rough cotton fabric of Marian's pillowcase.

For a moment, you wonder if any of these thoughts are worth dwelling on. You head back to Marian's bedroom instead, announcing your arrival by lying back down on the mattress with a dull thump. 

Irritated, Marian pokes her head out.

"You're hogging all the blankets," you say, hoping your statement serves as an adequate explanation as to why you haven't actually left. Probably not, but Marian has always been better at picking up hints than you are. 

To your surprise, Marian doesn't grumble, but shifts over so that you can lie more comfortably on her bed, relinquishing half of the duvet so that it covers most of you as well. Your legs brush hers as you get comfortable again, and Marian jumps almost imperceptibly, startled by the contact. You decide not to mention it. She'd probably be embarrassed, anyways.

The two of you rest for a few minutes in relative silence, save for the occasional shuffling as you get comfortable. Marian places one of her legs over yours and you roll onto your side so that your nose just barely touches her shoulder. She's looking up at the ceiling and you can't tell if she's closed her eyes and gone back to sleep. You doubt it. 

You wait for her to ask the question you've been anticipating. 

"You decided to stay?" She finally asks, turning her head to the left so that you're facing each other, but she doesn't make eye contact. 

"Yeah," you say. "Is that okay?"

"I guess," Marian says. From where you're lying next to her, you feel her raise her shoulders up and down in a shrug. "This... seems like a bad habit. That's all. I mean, we shouldn't—"

"Do you want me to stay?" You interrupt, annoyance beginning to burn in your chest. You used to be able to look at Marian and know her mood, know how she was feeling, and she always could do the same with you. Now you don't know anything. 

There's a moment where Marian says nothing. You wait.

"I do," she says quietly. "But that still doesn't make it a good idea."

You look up from where you're currently resting, your chin on her shoulder, and make eye contact with her for the first time since you woke up. 

"I mean it," she confirms, and you huff out a sigh. Guess she can still tell what you're thinking. You're still annoyed, but you also want to kiss her, but you figure that might not go over well at the moment. Instead, you press a kiss to her shoulder, because your face is right there anyways.

Marian gives a quiet hum of affirmation in response, so you stay there, your nose burrowed into the crook of her neck, and kiss along the juncture of her shoulder and collarbone. She smells like soap and the fabric of her duvet, and if you close your eyes you can try and lose yourself in the passing moment and pretend like the last two years never happened.

But they did, and you've dedicated yourself to making sure she doesn't forget.

"It's really okay if I stay?" You ask, your voice muffled by Marian's hair, and try not to feel stupid for having to ask again. Your annoyance burn bright again, this time at yourself for sounding so uncertain.

"Yes," she says, bringing her hand up to rest on the square of your back, warm against your skin. "For now," she adds, almost as an afterthought.

You snort in response, but it doesn't come out as bitter as you expected. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Will you make me breakfast?" You ask instead, half-joking. You're clearly pushing your luck, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss talking with Marian in this almost-casual way. Maybe you can leave the theatrics alone for a few minutes just for one goddamn conversation that feels normal.

Marian flicks you in the back of the neck in response. "Make your own damn breakfast."

"Oh, shut up," you say, but there's no bite to it, and you both know it. "Maybe I will."

At least that gets a small, breathless laugh out of Marian, derisive but not cold. You laugh along with her, squashing the fluttering feeling in your stomach and burying your nose back into the crook of her neck, desperate to make the moment last.


End file.
